


Vodka Coffee Wildflowers

by IceClownBenjiWyatt



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceClownBenjiWyatt/pseuds/IceClownBenjiWyatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The last thing he remembered was admitting to someone that he found Leslie to be more beautiful than the forest moon of Endor, and here he was with his arm draped comfortably over her shoulder. Her head was resting in the crook of his neck, with his chin nestled in the top of her head. He never felt more comfortable or at ease than in that moment."<br/>A reimagining of The Fight, with a fair amount of drunken hilarity and a dab of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vodka Coffee Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> While I appreciate all that The Fight brought us, I imagine the interactions and end result slightly different. It is an alternate ending to the episode, one that I feel is equally plausible. There will be one more installation after this. Thank you for reading!  
> (Also! I definitely used a quote from an existing episode.... You will know which one it is and I think you'll know why it was used.)  
> Prudence

If he could get the room to stop spinning, that would be great. It felt like he stopped drinking Snake Juice hours ago, and yet somehow he was getting drunk-er. Perhaps that wasn't such an awful thing, since Leslie was still trying to scornfully outdo Ann by grinding up on... What was his name again? Ralph Macchio?  
He let out a drunken, throaty cackle. No, stupid, that's the Karate Kid. The Karate Kid was infinitely cooler and less annoying than this douchecanoe. Why would Leslie even want him in her vicinity? Ben stared dejectedly at the floor. Well, at least he didn't ruin a whole town and work as her superior, so perhaps he did have something on him.  
When Leslie's blonde hair quickly ducked out of existence, Ben (belatedly) snapped out of his self-deprecating reverie. He tried really hard to whip his head to where she disappeared to, but then the figurative room tilted a full 180 degrees with the room in this dimension superimposed over it. Maybe now was the time to start thinking about the nearest vomit receptables- recept.....icles? Receptacles. Right. That one.  
"Ann, you're usually a beautiful princess with skin like milky coffee, but right now you're being a..." A large, wet burp erupted from Leslie's mouth in place of an insult. Ben thought she watched her eyes cross as she licked her lips with her whole tongue. She swayed a full foot to the left as her brain caught back up to her mouth. "A jerk!" Ben's eyes rounded to the size of quarters as his mouth comically dropped all the way open. Leslie called Ann a jerk! Wooooooow. Ann better come up with a good one.  
Ann's eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a snarl.  
"Yeah well you're being a b-"  
And in that moment, everyone froze. Well, not everyone. Only Leslie, Ann, and Ben did. Douche kept rubbing in what is advertised as a sexual manner on Ann as though nothing was happening, Ann's eyes widened as she realized her mistake, and Ben's heart spasmed as he watched tears well up in Leslie's eyes.  
"I'm going now, Leslie. I'm sorry. Douche, you're coming with me."  
Douche loudly proclaimed some vulgar thing about the evening's impending events, which Ben skillfully tuned out. His everything was focused on Leslie. And when drunk, that means pretty much everything else (like the actual act of Ann leaving) did not even register.  
Ben, in some clear corner of his mind, was really disappointed in Ann for abandoning her friend in her time of need. Ben, in a very drunk corner of his kind, was very glad he now could go talk to her because Ann was gone.  
He had to get up very, very slowly, but that seemed to be okay because Leslie hadn't moved a muscle.  
Once he was finally upright, and the blood in his head was only mildly pulsing the the beat of the loud music, he carefully put one foot in front of the other in the direction of the most beautiful Parks and Recreation Deputy Director in the whole wide world.  
"Heyyyyyy friend, wazzap?" Leslie blinked away from staring into space and her unfocused gaze directed to Ben. Her cute little brow furrowed as she licked her lips.  
"What... What was that? Were those words?" Still disoriented, she stumble-turned and pawed at air trying to find a place to sit. "I want waffles... I really need waffles... Whipped cream... Ben's...Ben...Butt..." She halted again, causing Ben to abruptly crash into her back, which led to both of them careening to the floor.  
"I think... I think my hand landed in gum."  
"What?"  
"Yeah. Yeah it definitely..." Leslie leaned in closer to the wad of sticky goop on the floor and inhaled. "I think it's Sweetums' new 100% sugar cola gum." Ben may not have been the most sober, but when Leslie's tongue started to come out of her mouth to ascertain-by-taste the veracity of her statement, he figured pulling her away from the dirty floor of the most dangerous club in town was a good idea no matter what level of intoxication.  
"Beeeeennnnn, how else am I supposed to know if it's Sweetums gum?"  
"I don't think... I mean, I'm taking your word for it. That piece of gum might have chlamydia."  
"Oooh, good point." Her face further scrunched away from the gum and closer to Ben's face, a fact of which he was very aware. She smelled like coffee and vodka, which seemed to be the majority of what Snake Juice was. He was pretty sure he smelled the same. Actually, now it was just further nauseating him and he wanted to get the hell out of here.  
"Hey uh..." He cleared his throat and looked straight ahead, trying to avoid Leslie's shockingly piercing gaze. "Maybe we should... Should get some... Air." Leslie's nose wrinkled, before smoothing out and a serene smile gently spread across her face.  
"Sure. But first, I think some more Snork Juice would be good. This night has been crap toast in a crap sandwich." His stomach lurched uncomfortably at the thought of alcohol and the crap sandwich, but honestly, he didn't want her to not talk to him again.  
The next moment was him and Leslie clinking shot glasses and gulping down hopefully his last Snake Juice ever, of all time. They slammed their glasses down on the bar, Leslie staring ahead at the liquor bottles, and Ben staring at Leslie. She had laugh lines on her forehead, and little creases around her eyes and mouth. He decided he liked them very much, because when she smiled, those little creases were like cracks in a window that let dazzling light shine through. Leslie Knope was just one beautiful ray of light barely contained by pale skin and golden hair. Leslie Knope was the most beautiful thing in the world.  
Try as he might, Ben didn't remember getting to JJ's, either. The last thing he remembered was admitting to someone that he found Leslie to be more beautiful than the forest moon of Endor, and here he was with his arm draped comfortably over her shoulder. Her head was resting in the crook of his neck, with his chin nestled in the top of her head. He never felt more comfortable or at ease than in that moment.  
He was really, really screwed.  
"Ben?" It was a whisper, so quiet and different than how she usually talked. He craned his neck to see her face, and saw that her eyes were blurry with tears.  
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" His free hand came up to caress her cheek, his lips pressing a firm kiss to the top of her forehead.  
"I...." Her eyes squeezed shut. "IreallylikeyouandI'msorryIwasabuttheadearlier." A small giggle built up in Ben's throat, but he smothered it as much as possible when he saw a tear spill from Leslie's pretty eyes. His index finger wiped away the moisture, and his eyes softened as he looked into her face. Call him crazy, but maybe the reason he didn't feel too drunk when he looked at her was because he was used to feeling like this when he looked at Leslie. Yeah, call him crazy. Also, call him a hyper-romantic sap that has seen The Princess Bride more times that he cares to admit (and has rewinded the Han and Leia kiss from Empire Strike Back seventeen times in one occasion).  
"Leslie, you were abso-tootly not being a butthead. Both of us are just drunk." He hesitated for a small moment, trying to cut through the fog of his cognition to figure out how to say the next sentence. "And... I like... Pawnee." Leslie's face fell as she started to pull away, and no physical contact was bad, so drunk Ben had better think fast. "Pawnee is a really special town. I love living there. And um, I look forward to the moments in my day, where I, where I get to hang out with the town. And talk to the town about stuff…and…the town has really nice blonde hair too, and has read a shocking number of political biographies for a town, which I like."  
Fantastic, Ben Wyatt. Bravo on literally comparing the woman you have a huge crush on to a town. And then providing human, Leslie-like characteristics to the town. To flirt. This is you flirting? This is why people do not date you. God, you should just-  
Ben remembers the second week he was in Pawnee. He received a death threat from someone within the Pawnee government (probably sanitation), Chris wouldn't shut up about his new multivitamin ("It literally kept a cancerous sea turtle alive for an extra fifty years, Ben!"), his mother called to complain about his dad's new "teenaged play thing," and April glazed Elmer's glue over the top of his danish (guess how he figured that one out). So that day, he took a stress walk through the Pawnee Municipal Building and found a relatively deserted corridor. It was furnished by a simple wooden bench and a mural of wild flowers- the kind he imagined running through and hiding in with Han Solo's blaster when he was a kid. It was illuminated by the sun poking through a tiny square window on the opposite wall, and it was very pretty. But at that exact moment, he heard the most exuberant cackle in his whole life ringing through the hall. It wasn't a witchy cackle, but one that was full of barely contained mirth and warmth. It was a cackle belonging to Leslie Knope, chatting with a fellow government employee on the other end of the hall, holding a Nutriyum bar and a binder labeled "Harvest Fest Ideas 76." The wild flowers seemed to move in an invisible breeze, and the air was warm, and the sun shined like Leslie's hair, and her laugh made everything feel beautiful and like maybe this was actually the best week of his life.  
It was that cackle he heard when he finished his Pawnee soliloquy, and he could swear he smelled wild flowers. His heart began to thud, and his hands went numb. Leslie's body continue to shake as she laughed loudly, but not in a mean way. Her eyes crinkled and her cheeks were flushed, and Ben gulped.  
She settled back into his neck, and started babbling about her newest conquest- an Eleanor Roosevelt historical fiction romance. And Ben's thumb rubbed her shoulder rhythmically and his nose buried itself in her hair. Still wild flowers, but they seemed to have been infused in alcoholic coffee.  
"I really, really like you." It was said so clear that honestly, Ben had to take a moment to process it. It was like the drunken fuzz had lifted, and it was just him and Leslie cuddled up in the diner.  
Oh. Oh.  
"I.... I like you too, Leslie," he responded cautiously. Is this just alcohol? Or is she clear headed? He was not going to do this if neither of them were clear enough. It wasn't fair.  
She jerked free from his arms and turned to face him head on. Her eyes bored into his, and he felt his head tilt down slightly to offset some of the intensity. Her mouth was curled in on itself, and it was very clear she was thinking very, very hard. Her brow furrowed again in that cute way it always did, and her cheeks were flushed. That must be the alcohol- she is drunk, you idiot. Don't be a dick.  
"I am drunk very am I." Well, there you go. "I very drunk. I'm drunk. I'm very drunk."  
"Yes Leslie, you are. Very much." She nodded sagely, and Ben bit the inside of his mouth as hard as he could to avoid laughter.  
"I am very drunk. And you are a lightbulb. And I want to make out with your lightbulb. Mouth. Your mouth. Not your penis. Lightbulb is not a euphemism for penis. Unless you want it to be. I can-" Ben took her face into his hands, squeezing her face until her mouth shut and she looked like a bewildered fish.  
"Leslie. Leslie. Leslie." She proclaimed a few garbled noises. "Shut up." Her mouth went slack, and after a few more seconds Ben let go of her face. When it was apparent she would be quiet, he took a deep breath and continued.  
" I don't want us to make this decision when we're... Like.... this. I don't want you to regret everything just 'cause you think you want this 'cause you're drunk."  
"But I do, though. I really really want this. Really bad. Ask Ann." Her face fell infinitesimally at the mention of her friend, but then quickly focused back at Ben.  
"But there's a reason you haven't done anything while sober. Your job and career are on the line if we do this." Leslie's brow unfurrowed, and she sat up ramrod straight. The sparkle in her eyes evaporated, and it was in that moment that Ben realized how hopeful she had looked.  
Ben also realized he was a fucking idiot.  
"You're absolutely right, Mr. Wyatt. Thank you for saving me from making a huge mistake. You have a good night." Leslie swayed only slightly when she stood up, but she didn't waste time grabbing her coat and basically fleeing Ben's presence. Maybe it was the adrenaline of what was about to happen wearing off, but now Ben felt simultaneously depressed and drunk as hell. The room was dizzy and he was sweating- what did he just do? He ruined his chances for a second time in a four hour period, that's what he did. She was right there, sitting in his arms. She was right where he wanted her to be, and Ben knew that drunk or not, she wanted to be there too.  
Then what in fuck's name did he just do that for?  
Swearing under his breath, he jumped to his feet, and then fell straight down.  
"I am drunk. Why did I think that was a good idea." Fortunately, the wait staff seemed relatively used to this late night behavior, as the waitress glanced over, inspected to see if anything was broken, and then went back her hiding place.  
Unfortunately, Ben did not have time for this. Leslie was somewhere and wherever she was, she could get hurt. He needs to save her and tell her how he feels. Or just find her and kiss her.  
That sounds so nice.  
He got up, slowly this time, and rushed (to the best of his ability) out of the diner. And, apparently, he didn't need to go to far, since there was Leslie vomiting in the trash can.  
"Ohhhhhh God this is awful." Ben chuckled, walking forward and putting his hand on her back.  
"Better out than in, Les."  
"It shouldn't have even gone in- oh fuck." She let out another heroic retch, followed by a wet smacking sound against the trash can. It was then that Ben remembered how poorly he dealt with other people vomiting.  
"Leslie, I'm-" If he remembered, he would come back tomorrow to clean up JJ's sidewalk. And the little bumpy thing that makes cars not hit the sidewalk. And his shoes, a little bit. Well, those he'll definitely remember.  
Wiping his hand across his mouth, he turned back to find Leslie walking at a zombie's pace away from him. He lightly jogged to catch up, gently taking her arm to spin her to face him.  
"Mean Ben, you know, you're a jerk." She really knew how to come out swinging. "I thought you were so cute and nice and-"  
Ben kept his mouth sealed shut, and when he pressed it to Leslie's, he did it with enough force to ensure hers didn't open either. He had to get his point across, but this whole thing would go back to hell if they puked on each other- or into each other's mouths. Good Lord.  
He pulled away, kind of wishing the first kiss was a little more magical, but nothing is actually that magical when you're drunk with barf mouth.  
"Leslie, I like you. And I want to be with you. I think we should sleep together tonight- just sleep. Nothing else. And then tomorrow, if we aren't too hung over, we should figure this out. How to do this. Because I do wanna be with you. Me being cautious doesn't mean I don't. It means I don't want you to lose your job because of the Ice Clown." Tears fell down Leslie's face as she plunged face first into Ben's chest. It was such a snug fit, so nice and warm. She was so warm. Wild flowers.  
"I hoped that was why. I wanted that to be why. I just didn't wanna be annoying and then be wrong and actually you wanted Ann and I was just a ploy and you really do like tall, pretty brunettes and I'm short and stumpy and-"  
"Leslie. You're amazing. But you should stop talking so we can go back to my place."  
"Oh. Okay. Good idea."


End file.
